1.
Just a little away from the city’s hustle was a small park with one weathered wooden bench.
In the morning, commuters spread newspapers across it; at noon, children chased each other around; and in the evening, tired office workers would collapse onto it—an ordinary park, really.
Ryota sat on that bench every morning at 7:30. Coffee in hand, he savored a sliver of stillness before heading to work. It was his daily ritual.
One day, he noticed a small note tucked at the edge of the bench.
“You always sit here at this time, don’t you? I’m here in the evening.”
A hurried scrawl—this was his first encounter with Kotone.
2.
Their exchange began the next day.
Ryota wrote on the inside of his coffee lid:
“You like this place too, huh?”
He left it gently on the bench.
That evening, Kotone discovered his message. The next morning, Ryota found a reply:
“It’s calm and relaxing here.”
Each day, without knowing each other’s faces, they exchanged a single line of words. It felt gentle and slightly thrilling.
3.
“Favorite drink here?”
“Hot coffee. And you?”
“Cafe latte. Not-too-sweet kind.”
“Sounds good. I’ll try that next.”
“What kind of work do you do?”
“Advertising. You?”
“I work in a bookstore. I love books.”
“Any good reads lately?”
“‘The Moon and Sixpence’—I love stories about chasing dreams.”
“That sounds nice. I’ll read it.”
In this way, they gradually got to know one another, as though pen pals exchanging gentle letters.
4.
One day, Kotone’s note read:
“How about meeting at the bench this Sunday?”
Ryota’s heart skipped a beat.
He didn’t know what she looked like, but he realized how special she felt to him.
He wrote back:
“Sunday. This bench.”
He left the note on the bench and waited. But Sunday came, and she did not.
5.
Monday morning, another note appeared:
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t make it Sunday… I really wanted to see you.”
Ryota felt a pang in his chest. Yet he was thankful she wanted to keep speaking with him.
He left his reply:
“I hope we can meet again here someday.”
And with that, he went to work.
6.
But their correspondence soon shifted again.
One morning, Kotone’s note said:
“Actually… I’m moving away next month. To a town far away.”
Ryota read and reread her words. Even without knowing her face, why did her leaving feel so empty?
On the final morning before she moved, Ryota left one last message:
“This bench will always be quiet and comforting, just like when you sat here. But… it’ll feel a bit lonely without you.
If you ever come back to this park—let’s meet here.”
7.
That evening, Kotone smiled softly as she read it.
Beneath his message, in small handwriting, she replied:
“Someday—on this bench, again.”
Ryota never read her final note. But from that day on, without fail, he continued to sit every morning on the park bench—feeling someone’s warmth in that quiet place, even at a distance.
